


you must be new I guess, at least you’re new to me

by suzukiblu



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Coda, Dom Jaskier | Dandelion, Episode Related, First Time, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sub Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:26:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24688348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzukiblu/pseuds/suzukiblu
Summary: “This isn’t funny,” Geralt says guardedly. Jaskier gives him another pitying look.“Geralt,” he says. “I literally just wrote an ode to your heroism after watching you get your ass kicked all day. What do youthinkis happening here?”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 36
Kudos: 1237





	you must be new I guess, at least you’re new to me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Squiggly_lines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squiggly_lines/gifts).



> Written for Squiggly_lines, who wanted porn. Also, I needed to be nice to Jaskier. 
> 
> Set immediately after “Four Marks”.

“Fuck it,” Jaskier says, and kisses the witcher. Geralt makes a startled noise. Jaskier would probably have knocked over a smaller man, given how eagerly he’s thrown himself at him. Geralt does bump back against Roach as it is, who snorts in annoyance. They’ve stopped a bit off the road, just for the moment, and Jaskier’s patience has officially run out. 

“What are you doing?” Geralt says, and Jaskier gives him a pitying look, arms still around his neck. 

“Oh, I _know_ I haven’t been subtle,” he says. “Are you always this terrible at this? Is this a witcher thing?” 

“This isn’t funny,” Geralt says guardedly. Jaskier gives him another pitying look. 

“Geralt,” he says. “I literally just wrote an ode to your heroism after watching you get your ass kicked all day. What do you _think_ is happening here?” 

“Hn,” Geralt says, and Jaskier kisses him again, as a man with, you know, _priorities_. Geralt is clearly lacking in those. Jaskier is just going to assume it’s a witcher thing, what with the Path and the monster-killing and the getting-their-ass-kicked and all, but it may just be Geralt being who he is as a person. 

Well, he’s attempted to seduce stranger people. Probably. 

Maybe not, but still. 

Geralt puts his hands on his shoulders and pushes him back. Jaskier makes a disappointed noise. 

“Oh, come now, surely you didn’t let me follow along for my sterling conversation,” he says. If he did, he’d be literally the only person who ever has. 

“I didn’t let you,” Geralt says. Jaskier rolls his eyes. 

“Uh-huh,” he says. “So you didn’t just kick your horse into a canter on the way out here because . . . ?” 

Geralt says nothing. Jaskier raises his eyebrows at him. 

“You could touch me, you know,” he points out. “Invitation’s open, and all.” 

Geralt just looks at him. Jaskier considers throwing his hands up and being done with him, but Geralt is a fucking _treat_ of a man and probably the most handsome bastard he’s ever met, so he doesn’t. 

“You _should_ touch me, more specifically,” he says, and Geralt lifts a hand slowly and sets it on his hip. Jaskier makes a pleased noise, mollified, and kisses him again. Geralt doesn’t quite kiss back, but his mouth is soft and receptive and Jaskier’s worked with less. “There’s a good start.” 

“Hn,” Geralt says, his eyes flicking to Jaskier’s mouth. He doesn’t do anything else. Jaskier still isn’t feeling very patient, but again: the most handsome bastard he’s ever met. 

“Am I going to have to tell you every little thing you should do?” he asks wryly, tapping a finger against the other’s chest. Geralt says nothing, again, but the corners of his own mouth tighten and it’s suddenly a very _telling_ nothing. “Oh. Oh! Well, you should’ve just _said_.” 

“I didn’t say anything,” Geralt says stiffly. He doesn’t take his hand off Jaskier’s hip. 

“Kiss me, Geralt,” Jaskier says, tilting his head for the other, and is not remotely surprised to be immediately kissed. Geralt tightens his grip on his hip and practically _devours_ his mouth, and Jaskier makes a delighted noise and wraps his arms around his neck again. If that’s all it takes to get what he wants, well—he’s going to get an awful lot of what he wants, isn’t he. 

Geralt bites at his mouth, hungry and urgent, and Jaskier _purrs_. 

Yes, he’s definitely getting what he wants. 

“ _Very_ good start,” he says, breaking off the kiss to speak and grinning wickedly at the other. He’s already out of breath. Geralt’s breathing fine, but his eyes are heavy and hazy. “Tell me if you don’t want to do something, obviously, but for the moment . . . well, how about you just come over here.” 

He drops his arms so he can grab Geralt’s wrist and tug at him, and the other follows him effortlessly as he leads him away from the road and back among the tall grass and scrubby trees. Jaskier was not expecting Geralt to be the sort of man who needed told what to do in this situation, but he is the _opposite_ of complaining about it. In no way whatsoever is he complaining about it. 

“Lovely,” he says, then drags him to the ground with him. Geralt bares his teeth at him silently. It’s nothing resembling a grin, but it’s not an actual threat either, so Jaskier decides to just take it for the incredibly attractive sight it is and not worry about it otherwise. “Lay back for me.” 

Geralt lays back among the grass and Jaskier thrills a bit internally. He’s done this kind of thing a few times before, but never with anyone so immediately and easily _obedient_. It makes him feel quite a few things, all of them very, very good ones. Geralt is a _gift_ and he is going to be properly grateful. 

“Good man,” Jaskier says approvingly, setting aside his lute and leaning over him. Geralt looks up at him guardedly, still so _suspicious_ even this obedient, and Jaskier delights in the dichotomy. “Oh, aren’t you difficult. I love it. Let me at you.” 

He might try to be a little more patient about things, usually, but Geralt still just isn’t making him feel patient. He gropes the other’s cock through his clothes and Geralt hisses at the contact, pushing himself up on his elbows. 

“What are you doing?” he says again. 

“Enjoying myself,” Jaskier hums contentedly, scooting back down the other’s body to tug his pants open and reveal a truly _magnificent_ cock, mostly soft but entirely gorgeous. Jaskier admires it. Geralt scowls at him. “Oh, don’t give me that look, a man can admire a gift for a moment. Also, I’m going to touch you now.” 

Geralt watches him sharply. Jaskier decides to take the attention as flattery and wraps a hand around that gorgeous cock, which responds just as immediately as its owner does to direct orders. Lovely. 

“You know, I should’ve guessed you’d look this good, but I clearly underestimated you,” Jaskier says, squeezing Geralt’s cock for a moment before giving it a few strokes and getting a very different kind of grunt than usual for it. Did he say “lovely” yet, because he is really feeling the “lovely” here. Geralt is a beautiful man, and apparently a delightfully agreeable one once you get him onto the right subject. “I want to suck you off. I’m going to, actually, unless you have a better idea.” 

“Jaskier,” Geralt says roughly, his hands fisting tightly against the dirt. 

“Taking that as permission,” Jaskier informs him, then ducks down to wrap his mouth around the head of Geralt’s cock. 

_“Fuck,”_ Geralt says, which is definitely the most attention Jaskier’s gotten out of him all day. Fair enough that it would be, he supposes, considering. He drags his tongue over the other’s slit, then swallows him down, and Geralt curses viciously. That gorgeous cock fills his mouth up just right, and Jaskier gives it all the attention it so rightly deserves. Geralt groans, his head falling forward, and Jaskier hums a pretty little tune around his cock and earns another groan for it. 

Geralt doesn’t grab his hair or push up into his mouth, interestingly enough; he keeps his hands fisted against the ground and holds himself very still, even as his face flushes and he finally starts breathing heavily. Jaskier watches him curiously for a moment, wondering about it, but is mostly concerned with his cock. He presses his tongue up tight against the underside and bobs his head, and Geralt groans again and his fingers dig into the dirt. 

Jaskier pulls off his cock, just for a moment, and strokes it again. 

“You can fuck my mouth, you know,” he says helpfully, and Geralt _twitches_ and his cock spits precome. Jaskier grins up at him, then swallows him down again and sucks roughly. Geralt’s hips jerk up into his mouth hard enough that he nearly chokes, which is _lovely_. 

Geralt drops back against the ground and pushes his hips up again with a moan and Jaskier works his mouth around his cock, all messy and greedy and pleased as hell. He can’t decide what he likes best about Geralt so far, but he’s greatly enjoying discovering new things to like. At the moment, it’s the way his voice sounds, rough and shaken and this close to cracking. 

He was _so_ right to pick the other out of that ungrateful crowd. 

He lets Geralt fuck his mouth—encourages him to, really—and the other keeps making delicious noises that Jaskier wants to bite right off his tongue. 

_Delicious_. 

“I’m going to—” Geralt gasps, and Jaskier immediately swallows him down as far as he can. 

Geralt comes with a low, raspy groan, thumping his head back against the ground and covering his face with shaking hands. Jaskier revels in it, feeling very pleased with himself, and laps up what little of his come he didn’t manage to swallow. He doesn’t particularly like the taste, but he definitely likes the excuse to lick and suck at oversensitive flesh until Geralt’s thighs squeeze his shoulders near-painfully. 

Jaskier is _definitely_ pleased with himself. 

“Don’t _you_ come pretty,” he says approvingly, licking his lips clean. Geralt exhales roughly, dropping his hands away from his face and fixing him with an intent look that Jaskier finds very promising. “Very pretty. What are your thoughts on returning the favor?” 

“Get up here,” Geralt rasps, and Jaskier happily complies. He tucks the other’s spent cock away, then moves up his body to kiss him. Geralt sighs into his mouth, putting a hand on his shoulder. He seems a bit more willing to take some initiative now, which makes Jaskier feel rather smug about things. 

“I’ve been waiting to do that all day,” he says, putting a hand on Geralt’s very fine chest and mildly regretting the armor in the way of letting him feel the other up. 

“You nearly got killed to do that,” Geralt says. 

“And it was entirely worth it, I assure you.” 

Geralt snorts, then shoves at his shoulder and rolls them over. He makes for a rather impressive sight looming over him. Jaskier adds it to the list of things to like about him. 

“Oh, I like the way this is going,” he says cheerfully, running a hand up Geralt’s arm with a grin, and Geralt stares down at him intently for a moment and then moves down his body, which Jaskier is certainly not complaining about. He’s already hard, for all the obvious reasons, and he’s been patient long enough. Geralt pulls his cock out of his pants and huffs at him as he wraps his big strong calloused hand around it and Jaskier immediately pushes up into his grip, eager for more. Geralt is so different from the other people he’s fucked that he’s practically an entirely new experience, and Jaskier wants _all_ of said experience. 

Geralt strokes him, and he groans, gripping the other’s shoulder. 

“If you don’t tell me not to I’m going to end up pulling your hair,” he warns breathlessly, because Geralt has lovely hair and Jaskier is not a man who’s ever been all that good at resisting temptation. Geralt shoots him a dubious look, but doesn’t say “no”, and Jaskier bites his lip with pleased anticipation. Geralt just gives his cock one last stroke and then swallows it. 

Swallows it _all_. 

“Hell!” Jaskier chokes, because it did not occur to him that Geralt might be willing and able to deep-throat, and also because it feels fucking _amazing_ , and Geralt sucks roughly and bobs his head. Jaskier fists a hand in his hair—he did warn him—and Geralt grunts and bobs his head faster. Jaskier is going to come like a damn _amateur_ at this rate. He yanks Geralt’s hair with a breathless gasp, unable to keep his hips from fucking up greedily into the other’s mouth. “Oh, you’re actually very good at that, I didn’t expect you to be so _good_ at that. That’s not fair, you’re far too pretty to actually need to be good in bed.” 

Geralt snorts, then swallows around him. Jaskier _moans_. He really is going to come like a damn amateur. It’s not his fault, alright, his endurance can’t be expected to stand up to someone like godsdamned _Geralt_. Frankly he’s just glad he didn’t come before the other even got his mouth on him, because obvious embarrassment aside missing this experience would be a genuine tragedy. 

Yes, this is definitely worth almost getting killed for. He’ll almost get killed all _day_ if it means a handsome witcher is going to go down on him after. 

“You’re about to make me embarrass myself,” he says feelingly, throwing an arm across his eyes and tightening his grip in Geralt’s hair, trying to contain himself. It doesn’t work particularly well. “Oh, oh, don’t stop, you’re so _good_ at this, don’t stop, don’t stop—” 

Geralt doesn’t even slow down, much less stop. Jaskier can’t even warn him before he comes, it’s just too _quick_. One moment he’s more or less successfully containing himself and the next Geralt does something downright _unfair_ with his tongue and Jaskier’s spilling into his mouth with a shocked cry. 

“Fuck!” he exclaims, and Geralt swallows every last drop of his come. “Sorry, sorry— _fuck_ you’re good at that, how did you get so _good_ at that?” 

Geralt shrugs in no particular kind of reply, and Jaskier struggles to breathe evenly again as the other tucks his softening cock away for him. Geralt pushes himself up into a sitting position, and Jaskier attempts to do the same but is a bit too wobbly to manage it. That was . . . _very_ good, yes, definitely. 

“You’re very impressive,” Jaskier says, debating just laying here for the rest of the day. It’s very tempting, anyway. Geralt rolls his eyes and gets to his feet. Jaskier would’ve preferred a little basking in the afterglow, but he’s not surprised. “Mmm, no romance at all, hm?” 

“It’s going to be dark soon,” Geralt says. “We need to get back to town.” 

“Fair enough,” Jaskier says, loving the sound of that “we”. He rolls to his feet, body still feeling loose and warm, then grabs his lute and follows Geralt back to Roach, who’s kept herself entertained grazing. Geralt mounts her and steers her onto the road without preamble, and Jaskier trots after them, humming contentedly to himself. 

If they’re going back to town together, well . . . they’re both fairly broke after all this, so in Jaskier’s opinion it only makes sense to split a room at the inn. And if they do _that_ . . . 

Well, he can think of a few more things he’d like to do to this witcher, that’s all. Might as well take the opportunity while he has it. 

“You know, I could add another verse to that song,” he muses casually as he falls in step with Roach, and Geralt gives him a dubious look. “I’m just saying, that was _definitely_ deserving of being immortalized in song.” 

“Don’t be an idiot,” Geralt says. 

“Oh, are you the one giving orders now?” Jaskier says, grinning up at him. “I’m open to that, but I’ll be honest, I do prefer giving them.” 

“You talk too much,” Geralt says, and Roach trots ahead. Jaskier has to jog to catch up. 

“Ah, but you _liked_ me talking,” he says breathlessly, hitching his lute higher on his shoulder. “Didn’t you, my lovely new friend?” 

Geralt looks down at him and says nothing. Jaskier grins wider. That’s a “yes” if he’s ever heard one. Or not heard, in this case. 

“You are quite lovely, for the record,” he says. 

“You’re still talking too much,” Geralt says, looking ahead down the road. Jaskier hums contentedly, not bothered at all. 

They’re definitely going to split that room, he decides.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr!](http://suzukiblu.tumblr.com/)


End file.
